The Only Thing He Knew
by Arinia
Summary: One shot: Why does Vernon Dursley hate magic and Harry so much? Is it because he's a narrowminded bigot obsessed with normality? Perhaps. But could there also be a deeper, more touching reason behind his hatred?


**Disclaimer:** See that name? It says Arinia not J.K. Rowling. I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N: **While I wait for my lovely beta to make my latest chapter of The Dead Shall Rise Again readable, I thought I'd hammer out this little plot bunny. I was re-reading the Philosopher's Stone and was struck by, in chapter one, how devoted Vernon was to his family. I figured I'd try and get inside his head as to why he justifies his hatred towards Harry and magic so much. This was fun to write (Vernon as romantic?), but I still hate Vernon. Just a little(well long) one shot, hopefully you enjoy!

Unbetad so all mistakes are mine. I found out the Dursley's backstory recently, so if you have too, ignore it for the sake of this fiction. I wanted to give a different perspective of the Dursley's, from their point of view, and flesh them out a bit so they weren't just one-dimensional villains.

The Only Thing He Knew

Vernon can still remember the day he heard about the Potters.

It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life. He and Petunia had been in a serious relationship for two years, and Vernon was positively smitten with the tall blonde. Finally, after much meticulous planning (which Vernon wasn't exactly known for), he was on his knees, a ring in his hand, on a romantic river ride on the Thames.

It hadn't exactly gone down as he imagined.

Oh, he had expected Petunia to burst into tears; she had always been one to wear her heart on her sleeve. But, he hadn't expected her to rush over to the side of the boat and begin heaving into the churning water below. Vernon slowly rose himself to his feet, feeling utterly dejected.

"We, uh, I mean…it's okay if you say no," he mumbled, looking down at the toes of his shiny black shoes. A shaking Petunia slid down to the floor of the boat, wiping her mouth in an unladylike fashion on the back of her hand.

"You won't want me," she wailed. Vernon couldn't help but chortle.

"I do have ring in my hand you know." He walked over to her, wincing as his knees cracked painfully as he bent down beside her. He'd have to start getting back into shape. "You're the only one I want," he explained softly, cupping her chin. She jerked away.

"I haven't been completely honest with you," she whispered. It was Vernon's turn to move away from her. Not been completely honest? A thousand possibilities raced through his mind. She was cheating on him. She was a lesbian. She was a convict on the run. She was…

"A freak."

"What?"

"I'm related to freaks, Vernon! Freaks, the whole lot of them!" Vernon was immediately intrigued. The one thing Petunia never talked about was her family. Vernon had quickly learned that to woo Petunia, he would have to abstain from asking questions of her relatives. He hadn't minded really; he was almost grateful he wouldn't have to deal with the in-laws. But, he had always been curious as to why Petunia refused to discuss them.

"Why are they freaks?" Petunia gulped loudly, and hesitated. Her watery blue eyes avoided his gaze.

"Do… do you believe in magic?" she whispered, sounding horrified. Vernon roared with laughter. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been that.

"No! What tosh! Magic, are we living in the Middle Ages?" His laughter died away when he realized she wasn't laughing along with him. "Good God Petunia, don't tell me you do!" Petunia stared out into the choppy dark waves, swaying slightly with the rhythm of the boat. A long, uncomfortable silence passed between them, and Vernon's somewhat slow brain realized that she _did_.

"My… my sister is a _witch_." She spat the last word, her eyes growing cold with a mixture of envy and hatred. Vernon's raised his eyebrows and ran his fingers through his slick hair. Far be it from him to get mixed up in any cultish activities. He subconsciously moved further away from his girlfriend, as though fearing she would suddenly whip out a broom and go soaring over the river.

"Like, one of those pagans?" Vernon asked, his mind feverishly trying to work out the meaning of all this. "One of those mental cases that go dancing around Stonehenge every year?" Despite herself, Petunia snorted.

"No, but she might as well be. She's the whole bloody package; wands and broomsticks and black hats and all that _nonsense!_ I loathe her! My parents adore her, of course. They're proud to have a witch in the family! Lily this, and Lily that! You know they hardly care that I haven't been to one of their Christmas dinners in 4 years! As long as precious _Lily_ is there, everyone's happy!" Petunia's chest was heaving having said this in one, rage fuelled breath. Vernon's mouth was twisted in a frown and he surveyed Petunia warily.

"You're not a witch, are you?" Petunia leapt to her feet so suddenly that Vernon landed flat on his rear in an effort to dodge her flailing arms.

"Certainly not!" she cried, thoroughly outraged. "Do you see my carrying around a wand, mixing potions in a cauldron, as though it were Halloween every day! I'm perfectly normal! Lily is just... just… a genetic mutation! A horrible deformity! How dare you… even to suggest that…" The irony of a mad woman raving about being normal seemed to dawn on Petunia because she took a deep, shuddering breath and began smoothing the folds of her dress. Vernon's mind was overloading; his sister-in-law was a witch? Was Petunia mentally ill? How had he not noticed!

"I fell in love with you because you were normal," Petunia continued in a much calmer voice, although she was still trembling. "Normal family, normal car, normal job; nothing out of the ordinary, or strange, or freakish. You're my way out of that wretched family. I want to say yes… but I know you won't have me after that." Vernon swallowed as he slowly rose to his feet. He couldn't even begin to process the revelations he was hearing. Yet, as he watched his girlfriend furiously wipe tears away from her eyes, hiccupping slightly, he couldn't hold it against her. He took her small, bony hand in his, and slipped the ring on her finger.

"As long as you're normal, that's all that matters to me," he murmured.

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Vernon can still remember the day he met the Potters.

It was Christmas dinner, the very same year Petunia had agreed to become his fiancée. For reasons still not quite known to Vernon, Petunia had suddenly become very insistent on attending her parents' Christmas dinner. Perhaps it was to show off her very normal, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary husband. Perhaps it was to really show Vernon what kind of freaks her sister was hanging around with (Vernon still had trouble grasping on to the whole "witch" thing). Whatever the reason, Vernon soon found himself apprehensively pulling up his brand new sports car into the driveway, holding Petunia's hand tightly all up the walkway.

Lily was not what he expected. He had pictured her akin to the Wicked Witch of the West. Instead, she was an attractive red-head, though, as Vernon thought haughtily, red heads were quite abnormal. Her boyfriend, James on the other hand, was nothing but a smug, arrogant good- for -nothing. Vernon noted with disdain that Potter had no job, only a rich inheritance to skate by life with.

"So, Lily dear, how is your year going so far?" Mrs. Evans cooed over her youngest. Petunia stiffened; her forkful of carrots remained in midair.

"It's going really well, Mum. I'm going to be so sad to leave everyone! But…"

"You know, Mum" Petunia interrupted loudly, her skinny arm snaking around her fiancée's large shoulders. "Vernon here works at a firm called Grunnings, and word is, he's up for a promotion really soon." Vernon glanced sideways at her, only to be greeted by an exaggerated kiss. The Potter boy snorted openly.

"Oh," Mrs. Evans looked unsure of how to react to this. "That's lovely."

"Lily, show us some spells you've learned!" Mr. Evans cut in with his booming voice. Lily went crimson, and it clashed horribly with her hair. Vernon frowned. What kind of people didn't appreciate a good, hard-working man like himself being up for a promotion? He looked at Petunia again; her eyes looked suspiciously bright.

"Dad! You know I can't do magic outside of Hogwarts!" Lily laughed.

"You know, Lils, you are 17 now," Potter said, his voice grating on Vernon's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. Lily's face lit up.

"Oh! Okay, Dad, this is a really neat one I just learned." She took out a long, slender brown stick, closed her eyes, said some funny mumbo-jumbo, and right before Vernon's astounded eyes, the bouquet of roses on the table began to sing a soft lullaby, swaying back and forth as though possessed.

Vernon had to restrain himself from leaping out of his chair. She was actually a witch! To his horror, he seemed to be the only one (besides Petunia) repulsed by this behaviour. Mr. Evans was clapping his hands like an idiot seal, and Mrs. Evans was beaming like the sun over at the red-headed wench.

"Vernon and I are getting married!" Petunia shouted. The magical lullaby stopped, replaced by a deafening silence.

"Oh, Tuney! That's amazing!" Lily cried, leaping over to her sister and giving her a squeeze. Petunia pushed her away roughly.

"Petunia, don't you think this is a bit sudden?" Mrs. Evans said, frowning deeply. Petunia's mouth fell open.

"We've been dating for two years in case you hadn't cared to notice!" she shrieked.

"Now young lady, you may be an adult but that is still no way to talk to your mother," Mr. Evans admonished, wagging his finger. "And right in the middle of Lily's spell too," he added, with a touch of regret. Petunia's chair crashed down to the floor.

"That's all you care about isn't it?" she seethed. "Lily, Lily, Lily! Well FINE! I'm out! In six months I'll be a Dursley and don't any of you DARE come find me! I don't want anything to do with you!" Lily's lower lip was trembling.

"Tuney, you don't mean that…"

"Oh yes I do!" Petunia rounded on her sister. "You always had to be the perfect one! You're nothing but a freak! People like you should be taken out back and shot!" Potter stood up, his wand in his hand, directly in Petunia's face.

"Don't you ever threaten Lily in front of me!" Vernon wasn't about to let some snot-nose punk bully around his fiancée. He stepped in front of Petunia, raising himself up to his full height and puffing out his chest.

"You get away from her, you freak," he snarled.

"Boys, boys, step back now," Mr. Evans warned, stepping in the middle. Vernon and Potter stared hard at each other, the hatred almost crackling like electricity between them.

"Vernon, we're leaving," Petunia choked out. Her skeleton like fingers were clutching onto his arm. Vernon didn't want to move. His veins coursed with hot fire and he longed rip Potter limb from limb. Fingernails dug deeply into his pudgy skin. Reluctantly, Vernon allowed himself to be pulled back. As they were leaving the kitchen, Petunia couldn't resist sending one more barb towards her distraught sister. "I don't want to be seen with such filth."

There was a horrible popping sound. Petunia let out a bloodcurdling scream as angry red warts danced their way up her arms and onto her face. Vernon stumbled backwards in terror. Lily was in front of her sister in an instant, simultaneously trying to shout at Potter and console her sister. Vernon was bellowing a stream of curse words, Potter and he were scuffling, Mrs. Evans was shrieking, Lily was trying to do more spells on Petunia but Vernon was having none of it. He was pulling that red-headed bitch away, and shoving Petunia in the car, just to drive, and get away from there…

Before he knew it, they were in a cold hospital room that stank of anaesthesia and death. Petunia was trying in vain to hide the red blotches on her skin, rocking back and forth.

"Vernon, I know you won't want me! Freaks, all of them! I told you, I warned you…" Vernon was clutching her pale hands in his. Everything had happened so fast. Magic was real, and so very dangerous. He absentmindedly kissed the back of her knuckles.

"Never again," he said softly. Petunia steadied, and looked at him quizzically, her cheeks had black mascara tracks on them. Vernon's heart was hammering painfully against his ribcage. Magic did nothing but corrupt. It had turned a good, respectable family against each other. And Petunia was punished, just for being normal.

"I will never let them near you again. Never. Not a single one of their kind." He kissed her knuckles again, not fully comprehending what he was seeing in front of him. Only one thought ran through his mind over and over, blocking out any other logical processing. Witches were menaces. Never again.

"Petunia, I promise, I will protect you from them. As long as I'm around, their kind will never harm you again." Petunia's ashen face was locked onto his, searching desperately for the attention she had always craved from her parents.

They sat there, not speaking, hardly moving, until the sun's wane rays peeked out from behind the curtain.

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Vernon can still remember Harry Potter.

That ungrateful, disgusting, sorry excuse for a boy.

He was just like his miserable father. The spitting image of him. His mouth would twist up into that same arrogant little smirk whenever he waltzed on through the door after a year spent at Hogwarts. He remembered all the times Dudley had come home hurt thanks to some wizarding spell gone wrong. He can remember being forced out of the house he had so painstakingly paid into for years to provide for his family. He can remember all the awful things happening around what was supposed to be his normal life all because of that boy.

But what Vernon remembers most of all, the one memory that still turns his stomach over as though he had just been on a rollercoaster, was that he broke his promise.

He hadn't been able to keep the freaks away from Petunia.

He hadn't been able to protect her from harm from magic.

He hadn't even been able to protect his own son.

He had tried to beat it out of him, but the magic was resilient. It kept growing more powerful, more threatening, it nearly engulfed his family. He had tried to stamp out any mention of the 'M' word; no Halloween, no horror movies, no looking at books in the library unless he approved of them. Yet the boy still could do spells and God knows what else.

Vernon was a failure.

Still, he had carried on. He tried to never leave Petunia and the boy in the same room for any longer than an hour. He made sure Harry came to fear Dudley and himself. He would always step in front of his family whenever the boy became unruly. He'd be damned if they ever got hurt under his watch.

Some would say he was an abuser. Perhaps he was. But this was magic; extreme circumstances called for extreme solutions right? But, what they could never say was that he hadn't done his best to protect them.

Because he had. He did anything to protect his family.

It was the only thing he knew.

**A/N: **For those of you reading this who have also been following The Dead Shall Rise Again, I have a poll up on my profile that I would really like all of you to vote on! Thanks guys!


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